


Paint

by SparklingDragonTears



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Closeted, Coming Out, Crossdressing, Fear, Gen, Gender Confusion, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Nail Polish, Other, Pride, Rafael McCall Being an Asshole, Secrets, background Derek/Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24617914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparklingDragonTears/pseuds/SparklingDragonTears
Summary: Scott has a secret he's kept since he was a child.It's Pride again, and he considers whether this is the year to confront his shadows.Scott + crossdressing + closeted desires + fear
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71





	Paint

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Pride y'all. We all come out in our own way. Baby steps are okay. 
> 
> W:Internalized phobias, LGBTQ+ issues, cross-dressing + confusion.

Sometimes he thinks about it.

Sometimes he remembers _that_ day, the indignation on Rafa’s face.

The bruise left on his wrist for days after.

Sometimes, in the quiet of his room, in the dark of the night, he holds his hand over his face and imagines colors, bright and bold. Unafraid. 

Sometimes he thinks about Lydia’s nail polish he stole years ago, sitting separated in the back of his desk drawer.

He knows the fear is foolish, unwarranted. He knows _that_ was years ago, most of his life in fact. He knows his mother wouldn’t bat an eye, his friends would probably even compliment it.

He knows the skirt balled in the top corner of his closet would still fit him.

With a groan, he throws an arm over his eyes. Why was he like this? He didn’t have a problem with anything… _queer_. He loved Danny, loved Ethan, had even become friends with the lovely ladies at The Jungle. He was pretty sure when Derek stole Stiles away, they were fucking in some lost cabin the Hales had hidden in the mountains. Hell, he’d helped Malia research binders when she was too nervous to ask for Stiles’ or Lydia’s help.

But none of them were _him_. 

He was pretty sure he didn’t like guys. He didn’t _feel_ like a girl. It wasn’t like he wanted to change his body or anything. 

Except, sometimes when he pulled out the silky cloth hidden in the very back of his drawer, he wondered about it. He wondered about gentle fabric stretched tight over his skin. He wondered about heels stretching his dark legs miles high. He wondered if anyone would want to kiss plumped up, painted lips if they weren’t attached to soft curves.

He wondered what people would think of him.

He wondered what he would think of himself.

His phone trumpeted a little jingle and Stiles’ face flashed across the screen, a rainbow filter stretched over his head, little hearts sparkling on his cheeks. 

He was pretty sure the background was Derek's loft. 

_Stiles: Happy Pride, yo!_

Midnight. June 1st. Another year.

He tossed the phone aside without a reply and stared at his ceiling. 

How many years had he told himself, _next year?_ How many _next years_ did he have before his buried shadows dragged him in? How many until he tore them apart and just gave up?

Which was worse?

Tears burned at his eyes. He had his own apartment. He had a degree, a real job, a real, grown-up life now.

And he was still too fucking scared of himself to consider his fantasies in the privacy of his own home.

He’d asked Malia once.

_How do you do it?_

_It just feels right._

She was so sure of herself.

He knew he wouldn’t sleep. 

Turning to his desk, in the dark of his room, at midnight, he let himself wonder, in the barest whisper in his mind, _how long until nail polish goes bad?_

He swallowed the lump in his throat and picked up his phone again. 

_Happy Pride, yo!_

Pride… 

It took him five minutes staring at the desk before he’d open the drawer, and another ten before he fished out the little bottle of separated pink and clear liquid.

It surprised him how quickly one could run a tiny brush over ten little nails.

It surprised him more that beyond the earthquake of his heartbeat and the coil in his stomach, his hands had stopped shaking.

He stared at the bright color, glowing in the light from his bedside table. He’d expected it to be blinding with warning, but instead, he thought of flowers.

He wiggled his toes against the blankets once he was sure they were dry. He could feel the grin splitting his face with the realization the color was attached to him, was on him, was _decorating_ him.

_How many next years?_

He looked over Stiles’ beaming face and made the split-second decision. He snapped a picture of his toes and slapped the rainbow filter across the top.

He finally typed out a reply over the picture. He stared at his thumbs hovering over the screen.

With a deep breath, before he could change his mind, he hit send.

He stared at the sent image. It wasn’t huge, but even this tiny step made his heart a little lighter, for the first time in years.

_Scott: Happy Pride bro._

Stiles’ reply was almost instant.

_Stiles: Love you, man. <3_

He laid back in bed, staring at the ceiling. He held the phone close to his chest with one hand, holding the other over his face, imagining colors, bright and bold. 

Unafraid.

**Author's Note:**

> Love one another. Support one another. Take care of each other.
> 
> Till next time,  
> -J X


End file.
